Funeral Blues
by Risa1
Summary: When death comes to someone close to you, it is difficult to say goodbye.


Funeral Blues

By Risa

Disclaimer: I don't anyone/anything from Charmed, or the poem used in this story. No copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: When death comes to someone close to you, it is difficult to say goodbye.

Authors' Note: I was re-reading the poem "Funeral Blues" by W.H. Auden when I got the idea for this story. I was originally supposed to work on the next chapter of "Duality" but this story kept bugging me, so here it is. I hope you enjoy it!

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            The guests have all left. Outside the world is dark and silent. Inside, my heart is empty, numb.

            She's gone. Irrevocably gone.

            I walk around the house. Everything seems dull and unfamiliar. The house is empty, barren, lifeless, now that she's not there. I close my eyes and sigh, trying to fight against the pain that threatens to devour me.

            Suddenly, I seem to hear her soft voice. "Cole?"

            I turn sharply, in delirious, foolish hope that I'll see her there, standing by the stairs, looking at me with a small smile.

            But there's no one there.

            I miss her so much already, my Phoebe, my wife. She was everything to me, the only thing in my sad, brutal, cruel existence that made any sense. She was the one who made me re-discover my humanity and made me give up the evil but safe life I had before.

            Yes, safe. Being the evil, ruthless demon that I once was meant that I would not be vulnerable to anyone, could not be hurt by anyone that I loved. Because I didn't love anyone. After what my mother did to me, it was better this way.

            Then she came into my life. Fate, mischance, serendipity, call it what you will. I had been sent to kill her – not that I minded. I had been contemptuous of witches and I had no qualms about taking the life of any living creature. But I found myself fascinated by her, attracted to her.

            You can pretty much imagine the horror I felt then at that. 

            Before I realised it, I had fallen in love with her. I couldn't carry out what I was supposed to do, couldn't return to the life I knew before. There were times when I was dodging bounty hunters when I just wanted to give up. It was just too difficult. Then, I'll think about the possibility of a life with Phoebe in the future and I kept going.

            That was also about the time I realised that I had it really bad. By then, Phoebe pretty much had me wrapped around her little finger. 

            It is rather amusing actually.

            For the past three years, we have lived in this house next to the manor. After the birth of Piper and Leo's daughter, Phoebe and I decided that we should give them more room for their family. Those three years were happy, idyllic ones. A life which I never thought possible. It didn't occur to me that it might end. I just basked myself in the joys of the present.

            See what love could do to you? 

            A car accident was what took her away from me. Something so prosaic and so normal. You would think that being what she was it would be something supernatural. My life came to a crashing halt.

            One day, she was there, in my arms and the next, she was gone. 

            For the past few years I had built my life around her. Now that she's gone, everything just crashed and fell in. I look into the future and I see nothing but bleak and empty blankness. I'm trapped in the past. Her laughter seems to echo down the hallway, her scent still wafts in the air of the house. I can't let her go and the thing is, _I don't want to.  _

            Suddenly, I'm reminded of this poem by W.H. Auden that I heard so long ago – 

_Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,_

_Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,_

_Silence the pianos and with muffled drum_

_Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come._

_Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead_

_Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,_

_Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,_

_Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves._

_He was my North, my South, my East and West,_

_My working week and my Sunday rest,_

_My __noon__, my __midnight__, my talk, my song;_

_I thought that love would last for ever; I was wrong._

_The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;_

_Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;_

_Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood,_

_For nothing now can ever come to any good._

            I had dismissed it as sentimental rubbish when I first heard it, so it surprises me now that I can still remember it. But it's particularly apt. It's tempting to just yell at the entire world, "She's dead and nothing else matters any more." 

            "Cole," I seem to hear a soft voice say again.

            I ignore the voice. It was probably just a figment of my imagination. If I turn and see that no one's there, it's just going to hurt all the more.

            "Cole," the voice said more insistently.

            _Just go away, I yell to my subconscious. __Leave me alone. I don't need you to play any more games with me. You've had your fun. I've tried all my life to avoid any emotional entanglements in the fear of the pain and it's still happened anyway. So just get the hell away!_

            Then I feel a hand touch my shoulder. I turn abruptly and I see her standing there, covered in a golden glow.

            "Phoebe?" I said, hoarsely, in disbelief.

            She nods. "I was waiting for you to respond."

            Figment of imagination or not, I couldn't give a damn. I rushed to her and held her tightly in my arms. "God, I missed you so much," she said softly.

            "I missed you too," I said, caressing her hair. 

            She reluctantly pulled herself out of my arms. "I can't stay for long. It's against the rules for me to come down so soon. But I couldn't help it. I saw the pain that you were in and I pleaded with them to let me see you."

            Then she looked at me gravely and said, "There's nothing you can do about it. I died because it was my time."

            "I know," I said, anger swarming within me, "Why does everyone keep telling me that?"

            "So that you'll stop wasting your time in grief and anger," Phoebe said. "There are so many beautiful things in this world that you can explore."

            "But what's the point if you're not here with me?"

            Phoebe sighed, exasperated. "I'm not totally gone. A part of me will always be with you, accompanying you. Get that into your thick head."

            I couldn't help the small smile that came to my face.

            Phoebe glanced upwards and her expression darkened. "Uh-oh, those guys upstairs are calling me. You think that they'd be more patient being beyond death and everything," she muttered. Then she looked at me and smiled, reaching out her hand to cup my cheek. "Take care of yourself. I'll wait for you." She disappeared then.

            I sighed. She had a point. But it didn't do much the dull the pain and the sense of bleak hopelessness that I still felt. But a part of me felt lighter. Someday, I'll see her again, and I'll tell her about everything she missed, every beautiful sunset and sunrise. Let her be the envious one. 

*~Finis~*


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